The Silence After The Fire's Roar
by Rothelena
Summary: After getting Darcy off the Panzer-case via framing the dead Tom Maier, Jane feels lonely and bad. He seeks comfort in Lisbon's arms, but somehow, everything escalates pretty fast...absolutely M, this one! An angry Lisbon, a desperate Jane- well.


_Hello, my dear friends! Sorry for being absent for so long, but I'm in the middle of a deep creative crisis right now, down to the point where I pretty much doubt everything I'm writing…I hope I'll snap out of this mood soon!_

_This tag is M! The sex is ANGRY! So if roughness is not your cup of tea- don't read on._

_It could be a tag, but it could be a stand-alone, too- decide for yourself._

_Disclaimer: "The Mentalist" is not mine!_

**The Silence After The Fire's Roar- Tag for 4.11 "Always Bet on Red"**

Every breath he took felt like the first one after a long period of suffocation.

The attic was cold, and he welcomed the discomfort, the iciness of the sheets beneath him, the slight rash of goose-bumps that covered his arms.

His nerves still felt raw, and he knew that when he allowed his mind to start asking questions, he would go insane. He shivered. Suddenly, he so desperately longed for warmth, wanted to feel safe somewhere, just for a while, not fighting, struggling, just closing his eyes in quiet relief for some precious time.

His eyes snapped open. They had fought, and when they had said their good nights in front of the bullpen, he had felt the distance between them. It had hurt him beyond words, but he'd been willing to let her escape, not able to talk at that very moment.

He still didn't want to talk. Right now, he wanted to touch.

His fingers brushed over the sheets beneath his rigid body. The sensation blossomed into the image of silken skin, a tiny hand he longed to take and hold.

He sat up, his body obeying a hidden incentive, and he wasn't about to stop it.

He walked through the silent building, the dark walls threatening to close in on him- he knew the sensation from all the times he had been very, very lonely, his soul a bottomless pitch that needed to be filled with a friend's tenderness.

Right now, he wanted to smell her hair. He knew she smelled like flowers, could track her scent even in large crowds, tuned to her so perfectly that his mind seemed connected to hers. He had almost lost any ability to lie to her. Nobody rattled his cage like she did.

Right now, she was the only one who could save him. And he knew she most possibly hadn't the slightest interest to do just that. But he also knew that she hadn't left yet. Maybe he could convince her to shelter him for this night. To stop the wheels in his head from turning. He wanted to drown in the sweet promise of oblivion, forget everything he had done and might be forced to do in the future.

He approached her office cautiously and felt the urge to watch her for a while without being detected.

She sat at her desk, pale, beautiful and quiet, clearly battling sleep. Trying to block unbidden thoughts, much as he did. Her hair gleamed in the faint glow of the single lamp, and he so wanted to stroke it. His fingers were itching, clenching and unclenching against his legs.

He walked slowly to her office's door, almost shoving his body over the threshold. He knew he wasn't welcome here tonight. But for once, he couldn't give her the space she demanded, feeling lost and needy himself.

Yes, he was a selfish bastard, and didn't she know that already? He swallowed the bitterness that rose in his throat like bile, concentrating on her instead. Damn, he had never wanted to hurt her. These days, she was pretty much at the center of his universe, the only person he felt a deep connection to. She was invaluable, as much as he tried to talk their relationship down in his own mind sometimes, tried to convince himself that she still wasn't more than a pawn, that in fact he didn't feel anything for her. Lies. Teresa Lisbon had pried him wide open, and he knew it. How he longed to vanish inside her embrace. Tonight, he didn't want to be a tough guy.

She glared at him, and his heart sank.

His voice sounded alien to his own hears, slightly hoarse, full of emotions.

"I know you don't want to see me." He said.

"You're damn right about that," she answered, and he could hear dried up tears in her words. Every single one sliced through him like a knife.

"We're in so much mess, Jane," she continued, almost whispering now "up to our necks. And every time I turn, the abyss swallows us deeper. I don't even recognize myself sometimes when I look into the mirror. Loving you is like a slow suicide, and I still have no idea how I ended up here. I saw myself as the cool, logical one once. Well, I've been wrong, haven't I?"

He couldn't answer. Her words burned a deep black spot into his soul, erasing every thought to nothingness.

"You can't love me, Lisbon." He croaked.

She lowered her eyes, but not fast enough to keep him from seeing the utter pain in them.

He flinched. He was such an idiot, crushing the most wonderful thing that had been given to him in almost a decade.

"Yes," she said slowly "yes. I should go home, shouldn't I?"

She got up slowly, packed some things into her bag, and the blood was rushing in his head like a roaring ocean. When she was about to pass him by he acted on instinct, grabbing her arm not too gently to stop her stride.

"What do you want from me, Jane?" she hissed "I bend the rules just for you, use people just for you, hide evidence and the truth just for you. Why did you think I do that? Because I have a hidden criminal streak? Trust me- I haven't. Just poor judgment on my side when it comes to where I put my feelings, I apologize for any inconvenience. And now let me go, you moron!"

She tried to pull away, but he knew she wouldn't hurt him, and something inside him just snapped. He pulled her close, almost crushing her against his hard body.

"No," he gasped "I can't. You can't be mad at me, Lisbon. I can't bear it, not right now. Not after the day I've had."

He allowed himself to evaporate into a cloud of need. He didn't care to talk about feelings, wanted to spend this night just experiencing them, and his lips fused to hers all on their own. His hands held her head while she struggled against him, and he almost sighed in bliss when she finally stopped resisting. Her kiss was furious, angry, and he yelped in gratitude when she bit down on his lip, not enough to really hurt him but stinging nonetheless. He pushed his tongue inside her mouth and she greedily took the challenge, dueling with him as if he was the arch-enemy, her hands tearing at his clothes. She was moderately careful with his vest but rent his shirt apart at the seams. He shuddered when her fingers dug into his naked flesh, the contact so necessary for him, the sharp sensation helping him breathe.

He tried to be careful with her clothes, but she wrestled free as soon as he loosened his grip, wrenching her lips away from his. She turned to stomp out of the office but he grabbed her ruthlessly, pushing her down against the couch, covering her with his body when she still tried to get away from him. She gasped sharply when she felt his rock hard erection against her buttocks, instinctively pressing back against it, reveling in his shocked groan. She repeated the motion just to torture him and enjoyed how he squirmed with palpable arousal.

Damn, he was hard, she could feel him throb through four layers of clothing. She tried to scramble away again, but every thought fled her mind when he simply ripped the pants off her- she held her breath in shock, already sensing the telltale gush of liquid drenching her panties. Would be pretty difficult to stop him when she was panting with desire.

"Get away from me, you idiot," she snarled "if you do that, I swear, I'll…."

"Too late, Lisbon," he growled, turning her in his arms so she lay on her back, his hips sheltered between her spread thighs.

She gasped when she saw his eyes, wild and hungry, and she knew it would happen tonight. But damn if she would go down without a good fight. She tried to shove him off again, shivering when she met an iron strength she had never seen in him before and damn- it made her hot. Her wetness became uncomfortable, and she had no idea how she was supposed to get out of this, her hands pushing against his bare chest while his warm lips feasted on her neck. He didn't budge an inch, making growling sounds like a wild beast, his fingers sneaking beneath the crotch of her panties.

Her arousal exploded through the roof, and she was really scared now, fighting like a wildcat without using one of her close-combat-tricks that would most certainly hurt him. He noticed, of course, and that made her even angrier.

"I won't let you fuck me, Jane!" she shouted at him, all but spitting into his face, struggling against his firm hold to no avail.

"Too late, Lisbon" he repeated, his voice rough and animal "I WILL fuck you!"

His blunt declaration made her tremble with lust, but she was too proud to give in now.

She pushed harder, only to turn to mush when he shoved two fingers inside her. She wanted to scream, wanted to beg him to take her wet, chafing panties off and ram his dick inside her, and when he kissed her roughly she sucked his tongue into her mouth and ravished it as if she'd be giving it an exceedingly thorough blow-job.

Jane groaned into her mouth, his hips thrusting against hers involuntarily. Time stopped when he ripped her panties apart with one single pull before his hands wandered to his belt, struggling to open it without actually releasing her. She broke the kiss and took one last attempt at getting away, knowing full well it was only half-heartedly. She would die from lust if he didn't shove it inside her right now, and she could barely stop herself from assisting him by opening his pants for him.

He finally managed to pull the zipper down and pushed his pants out of the way, taking his boxers with it. Lisbon wiped the ruined shirt from his shoulders so that his upper body was completely bare. She couldn't stop touching him, but was anything but gentle with him, her fingernails leaving red welts on his back and crescent-shaped indentations on his shapely buttocks. Jane groaned and gasped, his head thrown back in delight, the sharp pain of her rough caresses making him all the hornier.

Her hips bucked against his and he knew that this time, it wasn't to throw him off. He closed his eyes and tried to temper down his excitement, tried to establish a modicum of control to make this good for her, but his cause was lost when she lifted her head and bit down on his collarbone. He cried out and rammed his cock inside her almost at the same moment, his head falling back when he surged into her to the hilt, his naked flesh slapping against hers with a wet, primal sound.

Lisbon matched his scream with one of her own when he filled her- he was so huge, his massive girth stretching her way beyond what was comfortable, and he wasn't a gentle lover tonight. In fact, it felt so good she was dying to get more, clawing at his back in her budding impatience. She was amazed to see how much pain he took from her without batting an eye, the sharp quivers of his body the only indication that he felt her rough manhandling at all. She knew her fingernails left marks on his skin, but she couldn't stop.

She almost choked when he started to thrust, frantic, furious like a beast in rut. Every time he slammed into her tight core she felt as if she would simply come apart, unravel until she was nothing more than a thread, and her rough hands urged him on, wanted faster, deeper even if that seemed impossible. Her small body was quaking under his forceful strokes, and damn, could he move his hips. He knocked the breath out of her every time he made impact, his perfect buttocks clenching and unclenching while he jackhammered into her. She didn't stand the slightest chance to meet the sheer speed of his strokes, so she simply lifted her hips and let the fireworks rain down on her.

She came hard after seconds of mind-blowing sex, her sheath convulsing around his pounding rod until she screamed from the force of it, her whole body taut with ecstasy.

He growled in delight and she had no idea how in hell he could keep up this rhythm, a steady beat of earth-shatteringly hard thrusts, prolonging her orgasm until the next one began and she lost all sense of direction.

He felt her release like the harsh clutch of a vise, his body was as hot and hard as it had never been before, he was so close he could almost taste his own come on his tongue, his need filling him until there was no space left inside him.

He didn't know how he managed not to get off as soon as he finally was inside her, but he found he could, found the pain he felt while he took her made the sensations all the sweeter, his much-needed release just out of reach while he simply forbid himself to let go. The force of his thrusts was bruising, but she demanded more, anger and greed and love all swirling around them in a dizzying cocktail that made them drunk and so out of control it should have scared them. Instead, they both longed for this, couldn't stop, craved the explosion.

She felt him so deep inside her, taking more than her body but piercing her very soul. She'd known before that she would never get rid of him, she had no illusions left now. His shaft surged into her again, again, his power seemingly infinite, he didn't pause once to catch his breath. Lisbon lost herself inside him, melted into the burning lust his strokes created, and bit his collarbone again when the next climax hit her. She bit harder this time, meeting already bruised tissue, and the slicing pain pushed him over the edge with a yell. The first jet of semen felt like a thunderous flesh flood on her sore walls and her own orgasm soared into unimaginable heights of pleasure. He shuddered in her arms and she released his skin from her teeth, moaning when ream after ream of slick seed shot into her, his hips thrusting helplessly, erratically, until he collapsed, sinking down on her small frame in a heap of boneless satisfaction.

He gasped softly, still shaken beyond words. He'd never come that hard in his life, his mind felt foggy and limp, but when the dizziness subsided and the world stopped turning, his eyes snapped open, blank concern written into them.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked, fear and shock clearly visible on his beautiful face.

She looked at the faint trickle of blood on his chest, oozing out from an angry bite-mark on his skin, and almost laughed out loud.

"Yes," she said softly "you hurt me when you made me fall in love with you. Years ago. Hurt me so bad I haven't been myself ever since."

"I never wanted to, Teresa," he whispered, and her Christian name sounded so sweet on his lips she closed her eyes "no one in the world means as much to me as you do. Please, forgive me."

She reached up and let her fingers brush over his cheek, touching his lips, his nose, the lids of his closed eyes with soft, reverent movements.

"Of course I forgive you," she breathed "I love you. Stupid Teresa."

He so much wanted to say the words, but he couldn't. Tears burned in his eyes. She deserved so much more than he could give. He was a miserable coward, and he shuddered under the burden of his failure while she licked the traces of blood from his skin, her tongue warm and wet and so sweet he felt himself harden again deep inside her. He pulled out of her and got up slowly, putting his pants back on without looking at her. He felt raw and ashamed.

Lisbon pressed her thighs together when he refused to look at her. Sadness engulfed her like a cloak, and the pain was no lesser because she'd known it was coming. She'd always known he couldn't love, and that misery would be all she could gain from giving her heart to this man. But she couldn't help it. She would do it again just to see him smile from time to time, just to watch over him every day. Her life would be forever incomplete without him, so she took what he could give and didn't ask stupid questions.

Her chest was heavy with sorrow when she sat up and wrapped herself in a plushy blanket she'd pulled from the backrest.

Jane's shirt was beyond saving, so he donned vest and jacket over his naked skin.

Lisbon smiled a sad smile. Looked pretty sexy, actually.

He still didn't look at her, wringing his hands. She felt his warm seed between her legs and waited patiently for whatever polite brush-off he would come up with.

He surprised her. Not that it was the first time, but hey- she was surprised nonetheless.

"Let's get some sleep in the attic," he said and pulled her to her feet.

She followed him meekly, still stunned beyond words. Jane retrieved their torn clothing, careful not to leave any evidence in the room, and she was grateful that he was able to use his brain- she sure as hell wasn't.

His hand lingered on the small of her back while they silently walked through the darkened building, his delicious warmth seeping through the blanket. She knew they were doomed if anybody saw them like this, but they met no one, the hallways quiet and deserted.

After he had closed the door of his lair behind them, he started to undress.

Lisbon blinked several times and then followed suit, too tired to argue.

"You first," he said softly, nodding towards his makeshift-bed "I don't want you to fall off the bed in your sleep."

She flopped down onto the narrow, thin mattress and scooted over until she was pressed against the wall. When he slipped in next to her and covered both of them with the blanket, she sighed in pleasure. His heat felt wonderful against her clammy skin, and she blissfully snuggled up to him like a little kitten.

He stroked her back in a soothing, monotonous movement, again, again, again, until the world was blurring from the onslaught of sleep. She was so tired she couldn't keep her eyes open, and just before she sank down into a peaceful slumber, she heard him speak.

"I love you, Teresa."

**The End**

_Well, told ya…angry. Feedback is, as always, much appreciated. Thank you so much!_


End file.
